


Strawberry Blond

by hecate_01



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, The Phantom of the Opera (TV 1990)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Songfic, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27488851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hecate_01/pseuds/hecate_01
Summary: When his best friend pulls up to his house and asks if he wants to hang out, Erik can't say no to her, nor can he fight his pain when she starts talking about her crush.Songfic, based off of Strawberry Blond by Mitski
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Comte Philippe de Chagny, Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Strawberry Blond

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning : None
> 
> (not beta read, written in one sitting at 3 am)

Erik had been practicing in his room when he heard a cacophonous car horn cry from his driveway. Now, normally, he's greatly irritated whenever he's interrupted, no matter how inconsequential the disturbance is – even his father’s gentle knocks irk him immensely. But any and all anger escaped him – only one person in his life announced her arrival with those harsh blares.

Throwing up the shades and opening the window of his second story bedroom, Erik squinted his eyes against the bright, summer sun and down to her, standing in the driveway beside her Acura.

“Christine? What’re you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my calls,” she called back, smiling. “What’s going on?”

He held up his flute.

“Seriously?” she groaned. “It’s June, we don’t have homework! What the heck are you practicing for?”

“It’s not good to neglect and squander your talents. Speaking of which, how’re your vocal exercises going?”

She rubbed the back of her neck and chuckled nervously.

“That doesn’t matter right now.”

Erik raised his eyebrow, but couldn’t help or hide the smile on his face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get your calls. What do you need?”

“I need you to keep your phone on.”

“I’m sorry, it distracts me when I’m practicing.”

“You’re a nerd.” She kicked at a pebble on the driveway, sending it into the pristine green lawn his dad made him mow the other day. “I wanted to see if you wanted to go for a drive, but you seem bus–”

“No! No, it’s fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Alright. 60, 59, 58, 57–”

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it!” Even when he shut the window, Erik could still hear her charming laughter from outside, and felt a tingly joy in his chest. She wanted to ride with him; she went out of her way to drive to his house, because she wanted to be with him. Granted, she only lived about ten minutes away and they were best friends, so it wasn’t like her coming over was anything rare, but the sentiment still wormed its way into his chest and ignited his heart. She could’ve gone with anyone else, but she chose him.

Erik urgently rummaged through his drawers, pulling out jeans and a pale gold polo shirt. Truthfully, and he was embarrassed to admit, he hadn’t changed out of his pajamas; he had been so certain that he would stay home all day. It’s nice to be surprised, he thinks.

After combing through his messy blond hair with his fingers, spraying on some cologne, and ensuring his mask was in place, he grabbed his wallet and phone and threw open the door, rushing down the stairs. Barely making eye contact with his father, who was sitting on his easy chair in the living room and reading a book, Erik plopped onto the hardwood floor and reached for his black converse high tops.

“Your girlfriend’s out in the driveway.”

“I know, Dad. And she’s not my girlfriend,” Erik huffed as he threw on his black converse, lacing them fervently.

“Oh well, future girlfriend, then,” he chuckled.

“No, Dad,” Erik stood up, exhaling sharply. “We’re just friends.” Throwing open the door and slamming it behind him, he marched down the porch.

“Geez, someone’s cranky.” Christine leaned against the driver’s door, twirling the keys around her index finger, before tossing them up and catching them in both her hands. “Is it your Dad?”

“Yeah, suppose you could say that.”

She flashed him that dazzling, reassuring smile that always eased any and all tension in him, leaving him fuzzy and full of light. Making her way towards him, Christine pulled him into a tight hug.

“It’ll be alright. We’re gonna have a fun time.”

He pulled her close and rested his chin on her shoulder, placing his hands against her back, feeling the texture of her white cotton t-shirt. Her long blonde hair brushed against and tickled his chin – he’s glad she wore it down today. Of course, her hair looks good everyday, but he likes it the most when she lets it be.

Feeling her hands against his back, rubbing circles, sent a shiver down Erik’s spine. He was compelled to pull Christine closer, grip the back of her shirt, rest his cheek against her, and maybe kiss, if he was lucky. If not, that’s fine. He was grateful to have the opportunity to even hold her in the first place, if only for a second. If it could last forever, he thinks, then all would be right in the world. But she always pulls away in the end. Even though she could always bring him back into that perfect bliss, there’s a last time for everything, he knows. Patting him on the back, she pulled away, leaving his arms heavy with emptiness.

“You ready to go?” she asked, smiling at him as she made her way to the car. “It’s unlocked.”

He slipped into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door shut just as she started the car. He peered over at the barometer.

“You should refill your gas soon.”

“And you shouldn’t wear jeans in summer.”

“It’s not a big deal, I like it.”

“It’s so hot, how on earth are you not boiling alive?!”

“I don’t mind,” Erik reassured as she pulled out of the driveway and, turning right, drove down the street.

Christine was a decent driver, he had to admit, if not a little slow. He gazed out the window, watching their pastoral suburbia pass them by: wide green lawns; children playing in the sprinklers; a man trimming roses along a picket fence.

“You mind if I lower the windows?” she asked.

“No, not at all.”

She had put on her favorite heart shaped sunglasses – the ones she had bought when they went to the mall downtown one day. She had dragged him out there to watch a movie. Even though they have a perfectly functional theater in their small town, she likes the mall one more because “the seats recline.” He was inclined to agree; the seats were big and comfy. He had bought them a bucket of buttery popcorn, which they munched on so voraciously that they finished it off before the previews ended. They would reach in at the same time and the backs of their hands would brush against each other, and he could only think how wonderful it’d be to hold her hand in that moment. Their arms had shared the same roomy arm rest. If he had moved his hand an inch to the left, hers would’ve been under his, but it would’ve only resulted in her pulling away and laughing it off. He hardly remembered anything about that movie. He does recall the fun time they spent in the mall afterwards, though: buying each other band shirts at Hot Topic, snacking on pretzels, and wincing when the screams of a tween girl getting her ears pierced at Claire’s rang and echoed through the halls. She had bought the glasses at some boutique, and she has worn them for every sunny day since.

“What’re you grinning about?” Christine smiled as she flipped her turn signal.

“Oh, nothing.”

“What? Tell me! Thinking of a crush, or something like that?”

He shifted himself towards the window, feeling the wind billow through his hair.

“I don’t have a crush.”

“Seriously? Come on, you can say.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You say that every single time I’ve asked you.”

“Because I’ve never had one.”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never had a crush in all the seven years we’ve known each other.”

“Well, that’s just how it is.”

“Hmph, alright.” Christine shrugged as she approached a red light. “But you know you can always tell me, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But we have more pressing matters to discuss…”

“And what’s that?”

“What the heck are we gonna do today?”

He smiled, shaking his head.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t have a plan?”

“Nope. I was hoping you would.”

“What makes you think that? I wasn’t even planning on going out today.”

“I don’t know. You’re smart, you always have a plan.” Christine sped up, passing under a green light and onto Main Street.

There weren’t as many cars as he thought there would be. However, quite a few people were on the sidewalk, window shopping, loitering outside the brick and mortar buildings that lined the road. A couple sat on a bench beside a fountain, sharing an ice cream cone.

“Wanna go downtown?” she asked.

“No, that’s where all the traffic is.”

“Yeah, but there’s fun stuff to do there.”

“I don’t really want to go downtown,” Erik said, gazing at her side profile. “I’m feeling a little lazy and quiet today. Too much hustle and bustle in the city.”

“Sure, we can go another day.”

The wind brushed through Christine’s blonde hair, sending strands back towards the seat rest. Her cherry red lip gloss glistened in the bright summer light. Her left arm rested on the side of the car, occasionally reaching out the window, stretching and letting the wind fly through the spaces between her fingers. The sunlight found its way to her palm and, no matter which way she turned or waved her hand, it was still in her reach. Curling her fingers and stretching them out again, she brought her hand back into the car.

“You should really keep both arms inside,” Erik advised breathlessly as he flexed his hand, combating the tingling in his fingers and the ache in his throat.

“Yeah, I know. But it feels nice, ya know? To feel the wind and the warm sun. That’s why I keep the windows open.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“I don’t know why, but it’s the same cozy feeling I get when sitting in a hot tub in winter. Remember last December, when we sat in my hot tub while it was snowing?”

“Yeah, that was a lot of fun,” Erik smiled.

“Remember how we’d dunk out heads in and pull them back out, and the cold would freeze our hair?”

“I do.”

“We need to do it again once it gets cold,” Christine said. “It was a lot of fun. I bet Philippe would really like it.”

Erik closed his eyes and gulped. Philippe was bound to come up at some point.

“Have you mentioned it to him?” he asked.

“No, but I bet he’d like it. He likes cool, fun stuff like that. He’s always down for anything.”

Oh, he’s definitely down for anything alright, Erik thought, but bit his tongue.

“I was thinking we could get some fast food and drive to the park and eat on the roof of my car. Sound fun?”

“It seems that’s our default activity.”

“Yeah, it is,” Christine laughed. “Let’s get Wendy’s!”

She did most of the talking for the rest of the car ride: she was going to be a camp counselor and would leave in a couple weeks – did you know Philippe was a counselor there last summer? Too bad he can’t come this time. Don’t worry, Erik, I’ll be sure to make you another friendship bracelet – when’s your next flute recital? I’ll be sure to come, and maybe I can bring Philippe, too. You don’t mind, right? Oh, good – Want me to order you a chocolate milkshake? Philippe bought me one last time we came here and it was really good.

He could only nod, smile, and laugh along – he didn’t have much to say anyway. Outside of Christine and Dad, all he really had was his art, not anyone else to hang out with.

He held the warm, paper bags of food in his lap as Christine drove on, occasionally brushing against his arm and stealing a couple of his fries.

“Hey! Go eat your own!”

“C’mon, Erik! Sharing is caring! If you really loved me, you’d let me eat ‘em!”

He knew she was just kidding, but he couldn’t bring himself to raise anymore objections. If eating his fries was what she wanted, then who was he to stop her?

They had tried sitting on the roof of the car, but the burning sun and buzzing bees forced them back inside. Christine blasted the AC, but kept the windows down. She held her burger in her right hand, the other she draped out the window, drumming her fingers against the side, occasionally bringing it up and waving it around to enunciate whatever point she was making. Erik took a sip of his chocolate milkshake, nodding along as usual.

“I think it’d be fun, ya know? If the school council organized a fair to kick off the year. Whaddya think?”

“It sounds interesting. Games, prizes, things like that?”

“Yeah, definitely. I texted Philippe the other day about it, and –”

“You talk a lot about him,” Erik mused, finishing off his shake.

“Oh, I...I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It’s just–”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t but, geez, I talk about this guy way too much, huh?”

“A little bit, but it’s fine,” he reassured, only serving to twist the knife in his stomach. “You both are pretty close, huh?”

“I guess, but really I–” She pushed her sunglasses up her forehead, effectively pinning her hair pack, and turned to face him. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I gonna tell? You’re my only friend.”

“Don’t talk like that, but still. This is really important to me. No one can know. Promise?” Christine held out her pinky. He extended his own and, wrapping it around hers, shook it up and down.

“I promise.”

“Thanks, Erik. You’re a good friend.”

“All in a day’s work,” he said with a strained chuckle. He gave a small smile, fighting against the stinging in his eyes, the lead in his throat, and the banging in his ribs.

“I love him.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Really?!”

“You aren’t exactly subtle about it.”

“Do you think he knows, too?” Christine flashed him a concerned glance.

“I don’t think so, and even if he did, I’m sure it’ll work out.”

“Really?” she asked softly.

“Definitely. I mean, look at you – you’re Christine Daae. No one could ever turn you down.”

“Thanks, Erik,” she smiled. He forced himself to return one, pushing through the ache so he might make her day.

When they finished eating, Christine pulled out of the parking lot and, circling around the grassy soccer fields and driving past the giant wooden jungle gym, headed a different way from where they came.

“This goes through the fields,” she explained. “It’s the more scenic route. We’ll take a turn in a bit and we’ll be back ‘round.”

He hardly listened to her; his mind was preoccupied by the gray asphalt road ahead of them and the green trees that filtered sunlight onto the dashboard and her golden hair.

It was bound to happen, he knew. Every day, Christine would talk about Philippe a little more than the last. She’d become more excited when he walked into class. She’d share screenshots of flirtatious texts he sent to her with Erik, fawning over his romantic streak. And every time, Erik would smile along. What else was he supposed to do? Tell her that Philippe’s said all those things to every other girl at school? Pull her head out of the water and try to get it into her happy-go-lucky, thick skull that she can’t fix that playboy, and never will? Was Erik supposed to rain in on her parade, and make Christine hate him forever? No matter, being upset with her doesn’t help.

Her hand stretched out the window again, reaching up to the sky, feeling the warmth and the wind of the wild. He felt the tingling in his hand again, nearly twitching in anticipation to reach over and pull hers back inside and hold it tightly. The pain in his soul was the down-to-earth wake up call that reigned it in – her hand was never, nor will ever be, his to hold.

“Erik, is everything okay? You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Just keep driving.”

It should be enough for him just to be here; to have her send memes to him; to have her call him up late at night; to have her play video games with him, and eat fast food, and ride roller coasters, and drive down a winding road together. It should be enough just to be a part of her life.

It should be enough.

“Erik?” she called out.

“Yes?”

“Wanna light some sparklers later tonight?”

Christine was smiling at him. She smiles at him when she pulls up in her car to pick him up for school; she smiles at him when he gets strikes whenever they go bowling; she smiles when he helps her study for an exam she’s worried about; she smiles at him when they eat pizza together. She smiles at him when they have late night video calls, when she sees him in the hallways, when they go to Wal-Mart together and wander the winding monotonous halls, not looking for anything in particular to buy, just wanting to see everything in the store.

And she smiles when she talks about Philippe.

If Christine was happy, he should be happy, too.

He knows he should be.

“Whaddya say, Erik?”

“Sounds good.”


End file.
